Owing to a Nightmare
by Katia Dashwood
Summary: Hermione begins having a recurring dream about a sinister corridor and a dead man. Will she be able to save him? DHr


Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, or any of the other lovely characters in this story. sigh But so it goes…

Hermione awoke in a cold sweat, still shaking from the memory of her still vivid nightmare. She knew it was only a dream, but it had been _so_ real…

Hermione looked at her surroundings.

_Where am I?_ She put a hand on the stone wall. There was an aura about the place like a bleak, suffocating vapour. Hermione quickly turned the corner and ran without quite knowing the reason for her urgency. At the end of the corridor, she found a gleaming brass knob. She turned it, and a door slowly materialized as she did so. She hurried inside and shut the door behind her. But the interior of the room was colder and even more desolate in atmosphere than the corridor. She shivered and turned to leave, but the doorknob had vanished.

_Might as well look around._

It didn't occur to her that it could be a trap.

When she turned around again, she saw a boy – no, a man.

_No boy looks that haunted._

She moved closer, deeply concerned, wanting to help the owner of the eyes that were so filled with despair.

'Malfoy?' she whispered.

His eyes bored into hers, not blinking.

'Malfoy?' she said, louder. She touched his skin. It was cold as ice.

She screamed and averted her eyes, only to sight a pool of blood coagulating on the carpet. She screamed once more and tried to run, but her feet would not move.

'Help me,' whispered Malfoy's dead lips.

Hermione shook herself, but she felt as if the dream were filth upon her skin. She quietly crossed the dormitory to the bathroom and locked herself in to ensure her privacy. She peeled off her nightclothes and stepped into the shower, letting the scalding water cleanse her body, losing herself to the steady rhythm of the pounding stream that was jetting from the showerhead.

'Hermione!' Ron called. 'Are you alright?'

Hermione realised she had been staring off into space at the breakfast table. There were only two tables now in the Great Hall, one for the professors and security staff (Order members, all of them) and one table for the remaining students.

'Hermione?' Ginny asked gently.

Hermione shook herself mentally.

'Sorry. I had a really horrific dream last night.'

Ron, Harry, and Ginny nodded with empathy.

'I keep having the one where Percy throws us in Azkaban for breaking school curfew and Voldemort comes and kills us while we're unarmed,' Ron said morosely.

'I had a nightmare that he won the war – and he possessed me again. I was his servant. I killed you all,' Ginny whispered. Harry put his arm around his girlfriend to comfort her.

'I dreamt about the night at the Department of Mysteries, then it switched to when Snape killed Dumbledore. But in my dream Snape turned toward me and smiled maliciously. He laughed,' Harry said, looking blankly at the table.

'Mine had a pool of drying blood and a rigor mortis corpse. I had run down a corridor. A door opened. I used it. The door disappeared once I was in the room. I was trapped with the body,' Hermione told them. 'Then the body spoke. He asked me to help him. It was too realistic.'

'Did you know the dead guy?' Ron asked.

'I – ' Hermione didn't want to say it. They might laugh, or say that because it was Malfoy, the dream couldn't be true. But she felt it couldn't possibly be a simple nightmare. She had never been one to believe in Divination, but her intuition told her that the dream was more than a figment of her imagination. If she told them, it would cheapen the gravity of the dream.

Harry rubbed her back.

'You don't have to speak about it. We understand. If anyone knows what it's like…it's us.'

Hermione smiled gratefully and looked sidelong down the table. Malfoy still wasn't there.

'I'm going to the library.'

'See you in class.'

Hermione became so absorbed in her thoughts that she did not see Malfoy until she had crashed into him, falling backwards onto her rear end.

'Watch it,' he muttered, stepped around her, and walked away.

Hermione walked to the library, preoccupied with her frightened thoughts. But when she had settled at a table, she couldn't fix her concentration on the book open in front of her.

_I must've read this paragraph a dozen times by now, and I still don't know what it says._

Hermione sighed, stuffed the book into her bag, and trudged to Arithmancy.

That night, she postponed sleep as long as she could, organising her trunk in a different way and mending quills, until finally Lavender and Parvati threatened her with retributions if she didn't extinguish the lamp and let them sleep.

Hermione found herself in that same corridor.

_No. This isn't happening again_.

She raced to the door and pulled it open. Malfoy was holding his fingers to the wound in his side.

'Malfoy,' Hermione whispered, anxious. She rushed over to him and dropped down next to the chair.

'Who did this?'

'Granger…' he breathed. 'Help me.'

And then his breath shuddered and stopped.

Hermione frantically felt for a pulse, but in vain. She closed his eyes so they couldn't stare at her. But they snapped open again. And that's when she screamed.

So, for the second night in a row, Hermione awoke in a cold sweat, but this time she forswore sleep and went to the kitchens.

Coming back from drinking her hot chocolate, she lost her way and ended up in a section of the school she had never seen before. She ran her fingers over the cold stone and felt a rush of déjà vu. She started breathing harder and ran around the corner, stupefied when she saw a door ahead of her. She turned and ran back the way she came. She didn't stop until she collided with another person, who clutched her arms to steady her as well as himself. Her eyes immediately flicked upwards, wanting to know who was holding onto her so tightly.

'Malfoy,' she said, paling. 'Let me go.'

He released her, but stood staring at her, almost in shock.

'You look like you've run through a ghost,' he said, trying to sneer, but failing miserably.

_More like run __**into**__one._

She gave him one last glance and began down the corridor to Gryffindor Tower.

Hermione didmanage to get _some_ sleep, but not much. She nursed her grumpy mood with a flagon of hot coffee in the morning.

'You alright?' Harry asked.

'I had the nightmare again. But it was different this time.' _And I was in the corridor last night in the castle. It's here. It could be real. And Malfoy was headed – _

Ginny looped her arm around her.

'I'm tired,' her friend said slowly. 'I'm tired of this mess with Voldemort, and I'm tired of not being able to sleep. All of us are. How can we fight if we have to fight during the night as well? What will be left of us in the end?'

_And __**who**__ will be left, out of everyone_.

They had Potions that morning and Hermione went through the motions of making her potion automatically. She kept sneaking looks at Malfoy. He looked paler than usual, with bags under his eyes, but that seemed to be a trend at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

_No one is sleeping properly_.

_His hair is…it's not sleek like it used to be._ Hermione noticed that the light didn't reflect off of his hair any longer and it was messy as well.

_**Malfoy**__ doesn't even care about his looks anymore. He looks worse than he did last year_.

He sensed someone staring at him and his eyes went up and met hers. She tore her gaze away, heart pounding, and resolved not to look at him again.

'Excellent job, Miss Granger,' Slughorn said, his joviality somewhat hollow.

And Hermione, who usually glowed at being praised, simply murmured a 'Thank you.'

That night, Hermione tried to sleep, but it eluded her for a while. When she finally did attain it, her slumber was blissfully dreamless.

'I didn't have any nightmares last night,' she told her friends at breakfast. She cracked a small smile.

'I didn't sleep at all,' Harry said abruptly.

'If it happens again tonight, you're getting a sleeping draught from Madam Pomfrey,' Hermione prescribed. He nodded, to her relief.

Later, he nudged Hermione.

'Malfoy's been picking at his food for a while now,' he whispered to her. 'For a few days, maybe longer, I haven't seem him eat more than a couple mouthfuls a meal.'

Hermione looked down the long table at Malfoy. He was glumly pushing his eggs back and forth across his plate.

'Do you think we should say something to McGonagall?' Harry asked quietly. 'I mean, he's a Death Eater, but only to save his mother, and they cleared him. He's only seventeen, Hermione. He's in a similar situation as us, really.'

'I don't know, Harry,' Hermione said. 'I don't know.'

Harry went back to his own breakfast.

That night, Hermione went to sleep, hoping that she wouldn't dream.

The torches in the corridor flickered light eerily over the walls.

Hermione groaned but followed the corridor to its end, and burst into the room. Malfoy was holding a knife.

'Malfoy, no!' she shouted. But the knife was already dripping with blood.

'Malfoy,' she whispered. 'Come with me to the Hospital Wing.'

'Help me,' he said, eyes filled with pain.

'Draco, I am,' she told him, stripping off her T-shirt and pressing it, folded, to his wound in order to staunch the flow of blood. She tore a strip of cloth from her robes next and wrapped it around his torso, tying it tightly.

'Please,' he whimpered, obviously becomingly slightly delirious from blood loss.

Hermione put one of his arms across her shoulders and struggled to lift him to a standing position. But she couldn't.

'Help me,' he whispered again. 'Please, Hermione.'

His breath shuddered and he slumped in his chair.

'No,' Hermione gasped, tears beginning to run down her cheeks.

Hermione lurched upright in bed as her alarm clock sounded.

She wearily joined her friends at the breakfast table.

'Nightmare?' Ron asked through a mouthful of sausage.

'I tried to save him. But he died anyway,' she replied. 'The knife…' she shuddered. 'He had killed himself. He must have planned it. Why didn't he use the Killing Curse?'

'It was only a dream,' Ginny reassured her gently. 'It doesn't make it any better, but at least it is not real.'

_But it might be. What if it is? What do I __**do**__? How can I help him?_

After Transfiguration, Hermione told Harry and Ron she was going to study and then went to find Malfoy. She found him leaning against the trunk of a tree outside, eyes closed.

'Malfoy?'

He didn't stir.

'Draco?' she tried, even more quietly. His eyes opened and then closed again.

'Don't call me that, Granger.'

She joined him on the ground.

'I know,' she said simply.

His eyes snapped open and widened. Then he tried to play it cool.

'About what?' he sneered.

'About your plan.'

'You're delusional, Granger,' he glared. 'Get lost or I'll show you what Death Eaters do to Muggleborns.'

Hermione sighed and walked back to the castle.

_Maybe I am delusional. But he looked scared for a second. He's up to __**something**__. I can tell that much._

That night, Hermione didn't dream. The next night, she didn't sleep either, so she took a trip down to the kitchens.

Wide awake, after a strong cup of coffee and some hot soup, a combination from which the House Elves had tried to dissuade her from consuming so late at night, Hermione left the kitchens.

She got lost again, but this time, as soon as she recognised the corridor, she raced to the end of it and wrenched open the door to the room. Draco was reaching for a knife on a side table. Hermione flung herself on top of him, tackling him to the floor to prevent him from grasping the weapon.

His eyes were much more haunted in real life than they had been in her dreams.

'No, Draco,' she said forcefully as he tried to get up from the floor.

'I refuse to let you up until you promise not kill yourself.'

'How do you know I'll keep my word?' he asked stoically.

'Then I'm never letting you up,' she told him fiercely.

'Mudblood – '

Hermione slapped him across the face.

'Don't _ever_ call me that again.'

'Granger,' he amended, 'I'm bigger and stronger than you are. You can't possibly hold me down. You _can't _force me to stay here and not kill myself, and probably you as well, at this point.'

He struggled beneath her and then Hermione did the only thing she could think of doing, and kissed him.

After a moment of shock, Draco responded to the kiss, slowly at first, but then hungrily. He ran his tongue along her bottom lip and sucked it lightly. She made a soft gasp and allowed him to deepen the kiss. She released his arms as she ran her fingers through his hair and his hands pulled her tight against him.

Then Draco slid a hand up her shirt and his fingers grazed the delicate skin of her stomach and along the fabric covering the underside of her breast. Hermione whimpered and squirmed against him.

_Too late to turn back now_, she thought, before Draco flipped her over so he was on top. And that was the end of coherent thought for Hermione.

When Hermione opened her eyes in the morning, she felt Draco spooning behind her, a throw from the sofa pulled over them both.

_What now? Who knows… I just had sex with Draco Malfoy. There's no rulebook for this._

Draco stirred behind her, yawning and tugging her closer. Then he disentangled his limbs from hers and sat up. Hermione also rose to a sitting position, pulling up the throw to cover her chest.

They stared at each other for a moment.

'We – '

'Yes, we did,' Hermione said.

His eyes trailed down to where she was clutching the blanket.

'I've seen all that,' he said, smirking slightly.

Hermione continued to hold up the blanket.

'No one has ever touched me like that,' Draco said softly a couple of minutes later. 'You weren't afraid of me. You weren't worried about doing something wrong. You were – are – perfect.'

'Not perfect,' Hermione denied.

Draco gently tugged the blanket from her grasp and ran his hand over her soft skin.

'You _are_ perfect.'

She lost herself in his touch.

'You saved me from committing suicide. I can return the favour by giving you information.'

'You – ' Hermione shivered under Draco's tender ministrations and took his hands in her own. 'You should see McGonagall.'

He pulled away from her and turned his head towards the wall.

'McGonagall won't take me in.'

Hermione put a hand on his shoulder.

'_I_ will.'

He faced her.

'I'll make sure she does too,' Hermione continued.

'The rest – '

'The rest don't matter. Don't worry about them.'

He kissed her softly and slowly, thanking her. They both got dressed.

'You're not dirty,' he said, as he was about to leave. 'I'm the dirty one.'

He looked grim again.

'I can't promise you it will all be okay,' she told him. 'But I'll fight to help you. And when the time comes, you can't go down without a fight either.'

McGonagall decided that the safest route for all involved would be for Draco to become a spy. Hermione met him in the Room of Requirement on McGonagall's orders. And she stayed because she wanted to be with Draco. They became close friends as well as steady lovers.

'Hermione,' Draco said one night as they sat curled up together on a couch.

'Hmm,' she answered, looking up at his face.

He reached his hand into his pocket and pulled out a small, velvet-covered box.

She smiled at him.

'I'd like to marry you, when this is all over,' he said. 'Will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?'

'Yes. Yes, I will,' Hermione answered. He slipped the diamond ring onto her finger and kissed her tenderly.

Hermione sat down on one of the hard benches in the basement of the Ministry, trying not to look as anxious as she felt, and she regarded Draco's face. He was in the front of the courtroom, on trial before the full Wizengamot for his continued involvement as Death Eater after his sixth year.

Rufus Scrimgeour spoke to the court.

'And now, we will commence.' He swivelled his head to address the blond-haired wizard who was sitting bolt upright, chained to a chair.

_I wish he didn't have to go through all this._

'Draco Malfoy, did you remain a member of the organisation known as the Death Eaters after we cleared your name succeeding your sixth year at Hogwarts?'

'Yes, sir.'

'Did you participate in any illegal activities therein?'

'Yes, sir.'

'Does your defence have anything to say?'

McGonagall rose to speak.

'Draco Malfoy acted as a spy for our side. He supplied us with very valuable information, including forewarning of and logistics for the final attack and battle at Hogwarts. Without him, we would have been ambushed and our forces would have been obliterated.'

'You vouch for him, then?'

'Absolutely, Minister.'

'Do you have another witnesses who can attest to this?'

'Hermione Granger,' McGonagall told him.

'Anyone else?'

'No, sir.'

'Come forward, Miss Granger,' Scrimgeour ordered. 'Sit there.' He indicated a wooden chair.

Hermione sat at the front of the courtroom, facing the Wizengamot. Her friends murmured and their eyes widened in surprise.

'Miss Granger, do you corroborate Professor McGonagall's claims?'

'Yes, sir.'

'How is it that you can do this when no one else can?'

'I was the one who helped Draco find the strength to get help from Professor McGonagall. And he passed his information directly to me.'

A murmur went up in the room.

'Do you trust Draco Malfoy's allegiance to the side of true and lawful justice?'

'Without a single doubt,' Hermione replied promptly.

'Do you trust Draco Malfoy personally?'

'Completely, Minister,' Hermione pronounced clearly.

_I love him._

'Thank you, Miss Granger. You may stand down.'

Scrimgeour cleared his throat once Hermione was back in her original seat.

'Will all those who vote guilty raise their hands?'

Hands rose.

'Will all those who believe Mr. Malfoy is innocent, raise their hands?'

Scrimgeour handed the tally sheet to a shrivelled old witch in the front row of the Wizengamot.

'Of the charges laid against him, this court finds Draco Malfoy, _not_ guilty.'

Draco was released from his bonds and he immediately stepped towards the rows of benches behind him. Hermione met him halfway, twining her fingers through his. His eyes weren't so haunted anymore and the corners of his mouth turned up ever so slightly. He brought her hand to his lips and kissed her fingers. His eyes lit up to see that she was finally wearing his ring in public. Cameras went off and reporters surrounded them from all sides, but they just resolutely pushed through the crowd and left the courtroom.

And when Hermione sleeps, her dreams aren't always sweet, but when she wakes up screaming and shaking, she wakes up next to Draco. And when his eyes cloud over, she is there to embrace him, body and soul. He is her comfort and she is his. All owing to a nightmare.

FIN


End file.
